All We Have are Memories
by Turanlady
Summary: Demyx continues to claim that nobodies have hearts. Could it be true? Instead of losing their hearts, maybe just lost the connection? Zexion, however, doesnt see it that way. Mild Zemyx fluff, emo-ish. Oneshot.


A young man sat quietly in a dark room, staring out the open and dull window, quietly plucking at the strings of his large sitar, humming as he watched the heart shaped moon. His shadow stretched out across the floor as the light from the moon washed over him, taunting him for having many of which he doesn't.

"…hearts…" He murmured, a sarcastic tone filling his voice as he finally tore his eyes from the colossal Kingdom Hearts. Nobodies didn't have hearts; therefore he shouldn't be feeling anger and sadness. Just remembering.

Demyx had always been a kind and falsely cheerful spirit. His always positive remarks had kept everyone else cheerful, and unable to know of just what Demyx had gone through whilst he still had a heart.

He'd never really had a home. He drifted, from one place to another, making and losing friends. His parents had rejected him at a young age, for apparently, he made no input to the family. He was "belligerent" and "uncaring", or so his mother put it.

He couldn't exactly blame her. A childhood as rough as his own, however, was the major fault in his life. Divorced parents at the tender age of three, and an insane father could add together as a sore suffering. His father suffered bipolar, along with lack of anger control, and often beat Myde until the poor boy couldn't walk.

His father was finally admitted to hospital, but his mother struggled to pay for the bills, and blamed it on her son.

Demyx laughed dryly, the memory of pain and innocent guilt flooding his mind, and he stopped playing, absentmindedly placing his hand over the void where his heart should be. His most recent argument with Zexion over the typical topic of hearts had caused this time of remembrance.

Resting his head gently against the window pane, he closed his eyes and hooked his headphones over his ears, a song playing that was unusual for Demyx to listen to.

\

But Mindless Self Indulgence was his only refuge from a cold feeling that swept over him as his mind drifted to Zexion.

The calm and collected nobody who had captured Demyx's non existent heart. His small stature had individualized him from the others, in Demyx's opinion. And his strong ability to stay firm on what he believed in.

Demyx sighed. Too bad that rivaled what he himself always hoped was true.

* * *

"_Hey Zexy-"_

"_Zexion," The Cloaked Schemer corrected, not glancing up from his book as the Sitarist slumped over the armrest, staring blankly at the book._

"_Wotcha reading, Zexy-…ion?" He asked, hoping to strike up a conversation with the usually quiet nobody. Almost always an action in futility. But Demyx never gave up._

"_A rather complex and long literature that certainly doesn't require interruptions from those who are insistently a pest," Zexion explained in a bored tone, peeling over another page. Demyx sighed._

"_Y'know, I had another think about why we don't have—.."_

"_Number nine," Zexion interrupted, a slight hint of irritation in his voice, though his face remained deadpan and I do not wish to engage in this discussion, for the thousandth time,"_

"_Why not?" Demyx asked, a pleading look on his face. "You're the only one I can talk to, Zexy--"_

"_Zexion…"_

"—_because no one else listens to me," The Melodious Nocturne explained. "Everyone… thinks Im an irritation. You're the only one whose nice enough to listen to me,"_

_Silence followed uncomfortably, and Demyx took this moment to study the passive nobody. His slender body hid the fact that the Latin speaking schemer's hobby was baking. And his fingers, despite the black and slightly loose gloves wrapped around them, were thin and long, in a delicate manner. Demyx had always wanted to know what it felt like to hold them in his own calloused ones._

_His hair was an unknown substance, it was so silky and light. The slate blue was almost silver, and it hung gently over his face, as though it was hiding an alternate side to him._

_And his eyes. They were the most steel blue he had ever seen. And the depth of thought which they always seemed to be delved in was incredible. Yet there was usually only ever one able to be seen._

"_I wonder…" Demyx murmured, subconsciously reaching forward, the tips of his fingers only centimeters from the delicate fringe. Zexion raised his own hand and brushed away Demyx's, sending tingles down the Nocturne's spine._

"_Demyx…"_

_The first time in a while that he called the sitarist by his name._

"_Do not do that,"_

-----------------------------------------

A noise echoing throughout the castle halls alerted Demyx out of his trance, and he noticed that his music player had died. Sighing, he stood and stretched, a small item falling from his hand.

He scooped it up, and gazed at it as he dropped his sitar on his bed. It was a small and slightly crumpled photo, a woman and his former self smiling up at him. The woman, whom he remembered as Myde's mother, was beaming, despite a black shadow taken over her left eye.

Demyx flipped over the picture, and examined the marker pen scribbled over the back.

_My dear son, I have made some horrid mistakes in the past…and I cannot change them. And I cannot change my sorrow and guilt for what you suffered.__ Now all we have are our memories._

_I love you Myde. And… I'm so sorry for this awful life I've given you._

_Love, Mom._

Demyx stared at the writing a little while longer, and failed to notice the small pool of liquid forming on the paper, the water tension holding it together. It was when another droplet fell from his face, and broke the tension, that he was shaken to reality.

Why was she sorry again? The Nocturne thought long and hard, absent mindedly reaching for a small dagger on the edge of his desk.

'_Oh… that's right…'_ He thought, twirling the handle of the blade in his long fingers, before gently tracing it over the back of his hand, the skin staying in one piece.

Not long after Myde's father was submitted to hospital, his mother had started seeing another person. He was worse than anyone Myde had encountered, and beat upon him on a regular basis. This was the catalyst that triggered Myde's rebellious activities.

Demyx remembered that he got his alcoholic tendencies from those times, though he attempted to hide it.

A small and short burst of rage shot through him, and his hand shook, the dagger piercing the skin and leaving a thin trail of blood to run down his wrist.

"Ah… that's…"

He sighed, his mind and body relishing oddly in the pain. It reminded him of something important. Something he lived life by.

"I am alive…" He murmured to himself, replacing the small weapon on the desk. Sighing, he tugged his coat over his shoulders, and winced slightly as he slipped his gloves on, the material tugging on the fresh cut.

"Where's that new assignment?" He muttered to no one in particular, walking out the door, the click of the handle ringing through the empty halls.

"Oh… that's right…" He vaguely remembered something about the Underworld, his steps echoing silently as he slowly made his way through the Hall of Empty Melodies.

_I'll just grab a drink before I go…_

"_Broken doowwwwnn… no longer heeerrrrreeee…"_ He hummed, stepping through a portal into the kitchen. He opened the overly large fridge, his aqua eyes scanning the options. He dragged out a large soft drink bottle, and opened the lid, breathing in the vanilla scent of creaming soda. It reminded him of Zexion.

* * *

"_Heyyyy Zexy—__"_

"_Zexion." Was the Schemer's way of acknowledging Demyx's presence. Demyx leaned over the bench, watching as Zexion slowly stirred the thick substance in the bowl, his apron and bare hands coated in flour._

"_Wotcha making?"_

"_Scones," Another simple and straightforward answer._

"_I'd love to try some when you're finis-"_

"_You mean, interested in trying them," Zexion corrected, ladling small piles onto a tray. Demyx sighed._

"_Fine. Interested in trying them…"_

_Demyx and Zexion were the only members in the castle at the time. Demyx was always left behind on important missions, and Zexion simply refused to leave the castle unless it was absolutely necessary._

"_I reckon I'm more than just interested to try them, Zexion…" Demyx murmured, mesmerized by the way the small nobody's fingers manipulated the dough into shape._

_So gentle._

"_I still believe the Superior's wrong about emotion--"_

"_Number nine. How many times do I have to repeat myself?" Zexion snapped, now staring at the Melodious Nocturne, his eyes void of anything. "We cannot feel,"_

"_Zexion, you're wrong," Demyx said, standing up straight. "They say we've lost our hearts. How can we have lost them if we still had light? I'm telling you, Zexy--"_

"_Demyx, your drabble about hearts is deplorable," The Schemer shot back, and Demyx winced slightly at the use of his favored word._

"_Deplorable? How can you find emotions deplorable?" Demyx asked, desperate to make the nobody understand. "Do you despise the feeling of happiness? Do you hate… love?"_

"_I have no memory of love, Number Nine," Zexion said blandly, turning and sliding the tray into the oven. "Therefore I have no reason to like it,"_

_Demyx sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "I do! I… I feel it, Zexion!" He pointed at his chest, where his non-existent heart resided. "Right there!"_

_Zexion remained silent, his back still facing Demyx, who ploughed on, hurrying around the bench._

"_Every… every time I'm with you, I can feel something warm growing there! Im not quite sure how to explain it… but it makes me believe that there is something to us nobodies than just lack of emotions!"_

"_Really?" Zexion snapped, spinning and glaring at the Nocturne, his face showing a surprising amount of rage. However, Demyx felt something else radiating off the smaller nobody, and couldn't identify it. "What else might you think we have?!"_

"_A heart, Zexy! All this rubbish about having no hearts… its not right!" Demyx almost shouted, his voice strained slightly as his throat tightened slightly. He grabbed the Cloaked Schemer's limply hanging arm, and pressed it against his own chest._

"_There! Do you feel it?" Demyx asked pleadingly. "Its growing, Zexion… because… I'm with—"_

"_SHUT UP!" Zexion roared, tugging his hand away from Demyx's. "You do not have a heart, Number Nine! We lost our hearts when we moved into the realm of darkness! There is no real proof that we have emotions!"_

_Demyx shrank slightly under his seething rage, but chuckled nervously. Zexion paused in his rant._

"_Can you feel it? If we do not feel emotions… than why do you feel angry?"_

"_I am remembering, Number Nine…" Zexion snarled. His face, however, looked confused. Demyx smirked._

"_Can you honestly say that our memories of these emotions can make you this angry?"_

_Zexion remained silent, and Demyx's smirk softened to a smile as Zexion looked down. "What proof do you have that we don't have hearts? What if we only lost communication with our hearts?"_

_Then everything fell silent. Neither the musician nor the illusionist moved, and the awkward silence was almost crushing Demyx._

_Then he made both one of the boldest and stupidest moves in his life. In a brave attempt to console the Schemer, who had the realization fall upon him like a ton of bricks, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the smaller body, breathing in his comforting scent._

_Vanilla and musk._

_A sharp and sudden pain in his stomach left him breathless and doubled over, as Zexion threw a well aimed punch in his gut._

"_Dem… we cannot feel… our hearts are long gone,"_

* * *

"He… actually hit me…" Demyx muttered incredulously, replacing the now half empty soft drink back in the fridge. Turning to the door, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something lying solitary on the bench.

He backtracked, and picked up the item, a bundle of what Demyx recognized to be golden brown scones, with the word _Demyx _scribbled on it, in Zexion's neat and curvy handwriting.

Sighing, the memory of earlier flooding his mind once again, he unwrapped the scones, and plucked off a piece, barely any crumbs dropping to the floor as he finally tasted them.

Blueberry. Demyx almost laughed out loud. It was most likely mere coincidence, but had Zexion remembered Demyx's favourite flavor?

_Doubt it._

He left the rest on the counter, and traipsed out into the hallway, vaguely aware of another familiar presence in the library close by.

Another bout of bravery filled the musician, and he slowly stepped into the dimly lit room, almost instantly locating the Schemer's usual spot on the couch, curled up with a book almost as thick as Demyx's leg.

"Hey…Zexion…" He called softly, sitting cautiously on the floor next to the said nobody's chair.

Silence. Then Zexion spoke.

"If you've nothing better to do, why don't you go finish that Underworld mission you've been putting off?"

"I will, Zexy…" Demyx assured, his voice quiet as he rested his head upon the armrest of the chair. "I just… want to be with you… for now,"

Zexion sighed slightly, and just stared at a page, not turning it, not reading.

"Demyx, if I had a heart--"

"Which you still do…"

"—then I might have taken some interest in you… you are an intriguing nobody… but that's all you and I are," Zexion paused, and Demyx raised his head up slightly.

"We are simply the scraps and leftovers of some poor human… though we may exist, we're doomed to fade into darkness. So what's the point?"

"The point?" Demyx smiled, propping himself up so his chin rested on his hand. "The point of why we still exist, is because our hearts are strong enough, to give us a chance to re-connect with them…"

The silence fell again, and The Nocturne knew instantly that Zexion was still a firm believer of the Superior's words. Demyx sighed in frustration, and stood up, snatching the book away from the Schemer and laying it down on the table. He stared at Zexion, who stared back with curiosity and irritation.

"I am sick of hearing this shit about what the Superior has to say!" Demyx snapped. "Its always Superior this, and superior that! The Organization doesn't just consist of him! And despite him being the leader, we all have our different views on things! You don't have to listen to what he says, just because he's a higher number than you…"

He reached out and pulled the Illusionist to his feet, ignoring all resistance, and placed his hands on Zexion's shoulders.

"I… I love you, Zexy… you may say we don't have hearts, but…we have to… or there'd be nothing left, no reason for us to exist… and I wouldn't be able to do this."

Before any objections were made, Demyx tilted Zexion's chin up to face him, and pressed his lips hard against the other's.

He tasted sweeter than blueberry.

But the moment only lasted a few seconds, before the Illusionist pushed Demyx away, a look of shock and bewilderment plastered on his usually blank face. He held Demyx's gaze for a moment, then turned away, picking up his book.

"I'm sorry, Demyx…" Was all he said, before he strode out of the room, his coat fluttering behind him, with finality in the way he walked.

_There's just no getting through that mask of his…_ Demyx though dully, dropping into the now vacant chair.

_Hmm… better go finish those assignments…_

_I wonder how Roxas will react when he see's me, not Axel… bloody lovesick Rottweiler…_

The more he thought about it as he stepped through a portal, he sighed heavily, ignoring the tear that slipped down his face, and fell on one of the piles of books, immediately smudging the ink.

"I thought I could see… but now it went away…" Demyx murmured forlornly, stepping out of the portal, finding himself not only in the same area as the heartless domain once was, but nonetheless in front of the keybearer himself.

_Goodbye, Zexion._

* * *

**_AN: wow... i dunno what i was thinking then. But see, ive got into a new band, u most likely heard of. if not, i recommend checking it out, specially if ur severely perverted . _**

**_I think i was in an emo mood... Gods i adore Demyx. He is the walking sex. I'd rape him if i saw him XD so i dont think i'll ever go near an anime fest. for the sakes of other people._**


End file.
